


i'm taking a ride with my best friend (i hope he never lets me down again)

by icemachine



Category: Will & Grace
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Episode: s03e07 Gypsies Tramps and Weed, Introspection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 01:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18173879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icemachine/pseuds/icemachine
Summary: Spending the rest of his life with Jack does not terrify him; it was always hidden knowledge, a deep, ancient mind-engraving, that Jack was going to be with him forever---he would be lost without Will, in so many ways. The terrifying thing, the big monster residing in the rooms of his mind... islovingJack.





	i'm taking a ride with my best friend (i hope he never lets me down again)

**Author's Note:**

> OH MY GOD THIS EPISODE. OH MY GOD. OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOD.
> 
> I loved Will during the "I am never going to have sex with you!" freak out scene---he looked so terrified yet so vulnerable, that I had to write my thoughts of what his mind was going through during that time.

Will has become accustomed to fear; he has lived to wade through fear for years and years, has succumbed to fear, has written fear on his body before, an acceptable facade---upon the concept of loving Jack, however, he has never been more terrified.

 

& Will thought--- _ Will thought- _ \--that ignoring it would be possible, that some earthly thing in this universe would have  _ mercy _ , allow him  _ peace _ , but peace is something that has never gone hand-in-hand with Jack McFarland. The two concepts simply clash, the two concepts simply  _ spar. _

 

& the concept of Jack McFarland, in every form and edge, is holding his head underneath the water, like he has made some awful skinning mistake and this is his punishment, this is some kind of godly punishment, this is---

 

spending the rest of his life with Jack does not terrify him; it was always hidden knowledge, a deep, ancient mind-engraving, that Jack was going to be with him forever---he would be  _ lost  _ without Will, in  _ so many ways _ . The terrifying thing, the big monster residing in the rooms of his mind... is  _ loving  _ Jack.

 

He---he could---he could  _ never _ love Jack like that.

 

(Right?)

 

(It is the truth, heart-exposed.)

 

(Right?)

 

(Right?)

 

(Ri---)

 

It is so haunting that it drives him away from work, back to his apartment & _ oh  _

 

_ of course _

 

he can never find the peace that he craves---

 

"Hi, honey. How was your day?"

 

Jack's high voice rings & he is, moments later, faced with the body of Jack. He is in a robe---merely in a robe---Will's robe---Will's heart is going to give out, Will's heart is going to race until it loses the race & collapses on the field, unflattering and unfortunate---

 

he's going to collapse and then it will all

 

be

 

over

 

.

 

"What are you doing here?"

 

"Would you  _ calm down _ ? I'm just using your tub," Jack says; he proceeds to his usual ridiculous ramblings as he holds his wrist out to Will, for Will to touch, for Will to  _ feel _ and collapse into.

 

He feels sick.

 

He feels like a victim---alive in the vivisection,  ripped---pressed---pried open for gratification, for some greater knowledge, for the eyes of the universe. The kind of vulnerability that you cannot swallow or dissolve.

 

And he feels sick. Will feels nauseous. Jack is looking at him expectantly, like he  _ expects  _ Will to touch him, like the world  _ revolves  _ around this touch.

 

Will tells him to leave. It’s almost laughable.

 

“Why are you so crabby?” Jack asks. Logically, Will knows, it is a harmless curiosity---but his mind is inclined to place it in a warmer category. “Bad day at the office?”

 

“No,” Will snaps, ignoring the accompanying guilt. “I just wanted to come home… and not to madame butterfly.”

 

Jack is approaching him & his eyes are  _ wandering & _ Will just---Will just---Will just feels himself accept it, the fear-drenched future in which he looks at Jack and feels the kind of love that he has always hungered for. He loves Jack, he does. He _ truly does _ , but: not like  _ that.  _ He’s like---the family pet; something you never want to have sex with.

 

(Oh. Oh. Oh.)

 

(Memories are flooding back like pathways of blood flow and he—

 

His fingernails dig into his palms, and he cuts the feeling out of him surgical.)

 

What if she’s right?

 

What if—

 

“Hello, gorgeous suit.”  _ No.  _ Jack’s running his hands down Will’s arms, the soft fabric to his touch. “When did we get this, huh?”  _ Jack’s touch. Jack’s touch. His hands are so warm.  _ “And it fits you so nice…”  _ Jack is touching him, Jack’s chest against his back, Jack’s hands on Will’s body, Will’s disgusting tainted body—-tainted by these feelings of fear, of————————————————————--temptation. _

 

And he feels sick.

 

And he feels sick.

 

And he feels -  _ sick  _  but Jack’s breath is gentle against his neck and Jack is so warm and he can

 

feel

 

Jack

 

‘s

 

heart

 

_ beating  _ (or maybe that’s his) (or maybe Will has no heart) (or maybe they share a heart  _ NO _ )

 

against him and he can

 

feel

 

J

a

c

k

‘

s

 

body and he always expected Jack to feel icy and frozen but  _ God  _ he feels so warm, and his waist is pressing into the back of  _ Will’s  _ body again,  _ Will’s  _ existence again,  _ Will could never  _ love Jack like  _ that,  _ takes the sharpened knife and cuts all capability of fondness  _ right  _ out of him and hands it to Jack and his hands, his burning hands—-

 

(and his waist is pressing into the back of  _ Will’s  _ body again,  _ Will’s  _ existence again,  _ Will could never  _ love Jack like  _ that—) _

 

_ ( _ and his waist is pressing into the back of  _ Will’s  _ body again,  _ Will’s  _ existence again,  _ Will could  n e v e r l o v e  _ Jack like  _ that—) _

 

_ (Will can n e v e r l o v e anyone else like th—) _

 

He’s pulling away visciously, bodies ripping apart horrific. “I am  _ not  _ having sex with you.”

 

Jack looks shocked. He also, perhaps exclusively to Will’s imagination, looks like he’s decomposing, a recoil triggered by Will’s words. The  _ guilt.  _ _ What _ ?”

 

“I am never having sex with you. We are never gonna have sex. Sex, with you, no.” His lips are trembling, his throat begins to sting.

 

But Jack is good at elasticity. He always composes himself. “Oh, you poor thing, that wasn't sex, uh, how can I explain this? Um... okay, when two men are in love and committed---and greased up like pigs at a county fair—”

 

“No,” Will begs, “ _ no.  _ Psychic Sue said—” he cannot get the  _ words out— _ “I’m… gonna spend the rest of my life with a man named Jack.’

 

“Jack who?”

 

“Jack you.”

 

“Jack me?”

 

“No thanks.” He sighs, inhales, imagines drowning  _ for real.  _ “Look, you know ordinarily, I wouldn’t believe in all this psychic stuff, but, I mean, she’s been right about everything else, and—”

 

His voice is shattering. If he speaks again, it will escape him.

 

“---and what if she’s right about this?”

 

Jack looks through him, listens to the break and crack of Will’s voice. This is serious, this strikes  _ fear  _ back into him---a fear he hasn’t felt since the day he told Grace he was—-

 

and it—

 

What if she  _ is  _ right? What if he loves Jack? What if, one day, he looks at Jack and thinks  _ you have always been there for me you are a l w a y s going to be here I feel safe with you I feel comfortable with you despite your personality I don’t want you gone I don’t want anything to  _

 

_ ever _

 

_ rupture _

 

and what if he’s looking at Jack  _ in this moment & _ thinking:

 

_ you have always been there for me you are a l w a y s going to be here I feel safe with you I feel comfortable with you despite your personality I don’t want you gone I don’t want anything to  _

 

_ ever _

 

_ rupture _

 

_ because I love you. _

 

What if, one day, the sun did not rise again and the moon befell the earth indefinitely? What if, one day, the stars fell again & wiped out humanity with one smile that has Jack’s teeth and Jack’s lips? What if, one day, the planet is overwhelmed with heat and warmth and just

 

collapses?

 

What if, one day, he looks at Jack and feels how tired his bones are inside of his body, feels his head sing with ache, feels his stomach like a ravaging tide, and realizes that Jack is the cure to everything, every ill he has ever suffered.

 

What if, one day—

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> title from never let me down again by depeche mode, aka the song that makes me cry every time i hear it now because i associate it with willjack so much
> 
> anyway please, please kudos/comment if enjoyed! feedback is appreciated always. ♥


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